Today’s Writing Prompt: How did you spend your Sunday mornings growing up? What are some of your favorite memories?
This isn’t a favorite Sunday memory but it’s the memory of Sundays when I think of a memory for Sunday. I find it so ironic that my sister goes to church, well religiously, every Sunday. As children she and I would do our darnedest to get out of going to church. We would whine, cry, pretend to be sick but my mom would threaten and force us to be ready to go by the time our grandmother would get to our house. Bethany Baptist was where we spent many a day not listening, pretending to “get the spirit” and hoping it was Communion Sunday so we could sip grape juice and eat matzoth (wine and the body of Christ). After church we would head over to Philly Deli, the corner store, and buy candy or chips with money that may or may not have been intended for the collection plate.
It was that moment right after church that was always my favorite. We could take off those itchy, tight “church clothes” and it was my time. Read a book, finish writing some tortured tome that inevitably involved some misunderstood young girl, play Barbies (yes, I played Barbies well until the teen years.” My mom would be doing something and would always be frying chicken and there was time to just not do anything, go anywhere or do anything. The earlier events of the day somewhat forgotten and forgiven as we would “get ready for the week.” Laying clothes out, the washer humming, getting hair did, finishing up that homework that just didn’t seem to get done all weekend long. Hoping my aunt would stop by with out little cousin who was like a living doll until we were bored with her. Our friend stopping over and joining in with our playing Barbies until the call for dinner. If it were summer we could stay out late, on the front steps, where we would giggle and deny that we liked so and so and listen to Power 99 and think we were so cool.
Now Sunday is all about a rush, rush, rush. Me rushing to work, The Bee rushing to get to her dad’s and I miss just sitting back, curled on the couch thinking that tomorrow is going to be here all too soon.
Time!
- Set a timer and write for 5 minutes only.
- Write an intro to the post if you want but don’t edit the post. No proofreading or spellchecking. This is writing in the raw.
- Publish it somewhere. Anywhere. The back door to your blog if you want. But make it accessible.
- Add the Stream of Consciousness Sunday badge to your post.
- Link up your post on the site.
- Visit your fellow bloggers and show some love.
Slowing down for a minute,
-r
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